


if not by faith, then by the sword

by Quintessence



Series: h/c bingo requests [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Gon, Torture, Whump, it's one of those 'one is tortured in front of the other for Reasons' fics, like hella whump, protective killua, they both want to protecc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintessence/pseuds/Quintessence
Summary: “It is fun to watch you two trying to out-do each other in the nobility department, though,” Taupher continues.  “That ‘hurt me instead’ song and dance doesn’t typically last too long once I’ve actually started in on someone.  Pain’s the most primal human sensation.  All that higher level stuff--love, commitment, honor, courage, integrity--crumbles in an instant if the pain is bad enough.  But not you two, huh?  You really mean it.  You really would take the worst, most excruciating agony imaginable over seeing the other suffer.  I’ve been doing this a while, and I’ll tell you, something like that is pretty rare.”In which there are worse things to suffer than pain.For the request "accept injury to protect someone + Killugon"
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Series: h/c bingo requests [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741759
Comments: 63
Kudos: 590





	if not by faith, then by the sword

**Author's Note:**

> okay i apologize for the lengthy authors note BUT:
> 
> 1\. hello!!!!! i realize i was gone for a few weeks, but my chronic illness was kicking my ass. i'm feeling much better now, but you know what a chronic illness flare always means?? entirely unnecessary philosophical musings on the experience of pain crammed into anime fanfiction!!!!!
> 
> 2\. this is another h/c bingo request. i'm working through them slowly, but they're all turning out WAY longer than anticipated. i'm having lots of fun tho!!!!
> 
> 3\. title is from hebrews 11:40 by the mountain goats
> 
> 4\. **v important!!!!!** there is onscreen torture in this fic, so proceed w caution should you not enjoy that sort of thing. i didn't use the "graphic depictions of violence" warning bc there isn't actually any violence--it's just a nen ability that causes pain, no real injuries/physical harm--but if that's not your jam, pls consider yourself warned!!!!
> 
> okie dokie, i think that's all from me!!!! pls enjoy!!!!!

Gon wakes bound to a chair.

That in and of itself isn’t particularly alarming. Not that Gon enjoys being kidnapped, of course, but it’s hardly the first time this sort of thing has happened. Over the years, he and Killua have found themselves in more than their fair share of scrapes and binds, so abduction isn’t exactly out of the ordinary anymore. Waking to find himself tied down, facing Killua, in some nondescript, empty warehouse has almost become routine by now.

“Good morning,” Killua says dryly, bound in a chair opposite Gon.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Gon teases. “What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Gon tests the bindings, attempting to gather his aura and pull free, but he finds he can’t. It’s like he’d suspected--they’re Nen ropes, meaning they’ve forced him into a state of Zetsu. His aura is effectively useless now. Still, it’s not his first encounter with Nen ropes, so it’ll take far more than that to scare him.

“Yeah,” Killua says, after watching Gon’s attempt to break free. “Looks like it’s not gonna be that simple.”

Gon smiles in spite of himself. No, he doesn’t enjoy being kidnapped, but he has to admit that there’s a unique, satisfying thrill in escaping danger with Killua at his side.

“Here’s what I’m thinking--” Killua begins, but he’s cut off by the low rumble of the sliding door opening at the far end of the warehouse. Immediately, he falls silent, and he and Gon watch the figure approaching them.

He appears to be a man in his late thirties, with shaggy, overgrown brown hair and a surprisingly neatly kept beard. He’s of average height and build, so he isn’t particularly physically intimidating, but the sheer bloodlust Gon feels emanating from his body as he strides across the warehouse towards the two of them is enough to give Gon pause. Killua must sense it too, because his demeanor shifts--he sits a bit straighter, his gaze sharp and calculating. He must realize what Gon does. They’re not dealing with an amateur.

“Glad the two of you are awake,” the man says brightly. “I was getting a bit tired of waiting around.”

His tone is deceptively friendly, but Gon can sense the steel beneath his words.

“Killua Zoldyck,” he continues once he’s reached them, looking down at Killua with a eerie, satisfied smile. “It’s hard to believe we’re finally face-to-face.”

“Do I know you?” Killua asks.

The man laughs, still looking at Killua with that odd, predatory smile. Gon doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like anyone leering at Killua.

“Sort of. We only met once,” the man says. “It was a long time ago, so I understand why you might not remember me. But tell me, does the name Lilinia Sangs ring a bell?”

Killua simply shrugs.

“No, not really. Sorry.”

The man flushes, jaw clenching. In an instant, the friendly, jovial facade disappears, revealing a glimpse of the rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“Well, it should,” he growls. “You killed her twelve years ago.”

For just a moment, genuine regret flashes in Killua’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft. “I don’t do that sort of thing anymore. I haven’t for a long while now.”

The man laughs.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. You’ve reformed, huh? Been walking the straight and narrow? That’s great, really. But you know what?  _ It doesn’t fucking bring my sister back. _ ”

Killua sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I know I’ve hurt a lot of people. And I won’t blame you for wanting some revenge for that. All I ask is that you leave Gon out of this. This is between the two of us, right? So just let Gon go. He didn’t know me back then. He isn’t involved in any of this. So just let him go, and we’ll deal with this between ourselves.”

“Killua, no--” Gon begins, but he’s cut off abruptly.

“Oh, fat chance,” the man says. “Like I’m just gonna let a Nen user free while his friend is captured. Yeah, that’s real smart. Look, I didn’t plan on bringing him into this, but he happened to be in the apartment when I came for you, and I couldn’t exactly let him go without compromising things. And honestly, it’s a good thing he’s here. It’s gonna make everything so much more interesting.”

All at once, something terrifying and deadly flashes in Killua’s eyes.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demands, voice low and dangerous.

“Oh, relax,” the man continues. “I’m not going to hurt him. No, he’s gonna get to watch.”

A hot, sick knot tightens in Gon’s stomach. No, that’s worse. He couldn’t bear to watch Killua be hurt. No matter the pain, no matter how cruel or brutal, Gon would always rather suffer it himself than watch anything bad happen to Killua.

“You’re going to make him watch me die?” Killua’s voice is tense with something Gon can’t quite place.

The man sighs.

“No, no, no. I’m not going to kill you. That’s not fair. That’s not  _ justice.  _ No, I’m going to do exactly what you did to me twelve years ago. You’re going to lead me directly to your little sister. And I’m going to kill her.  _ That’s  _ fair.”

The color abruptly drains from Killua’s face.

“That’s never going to happen,” he snarls. “I’d die before I’d give up Alluka.”

The man grins.

“Yeah, I had a feeling you’d say something like that. And you probably mean it, too. Fortunately, I’m not going to threaten your life. No, I’ve got something much more persuasive.”

The man lifts his hand, and a dense, extremely concentrated ball of aura gathers in his palm.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” he continues. “I’m Taupher Sangs. I’ve gotten pretty well known among Nen users for my ability.”

Killua shrugs.

“I’ve never heard of you.”

The man--Taupher--grins.

“Ah, that’s too bad. I’ll admit that I like it when my reputation precedes me. But I’ll fill you in on what you’ve missed. I’m a Manipulator, and my ability is quite simple. It’s pain. Pain unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Sheer, unadulterated agony. There isn’t a single person I’ve interrogated who I haven’t broken eventually. I’ve got a one hundred percent success rate.”

The grin grows wider and more sinister and Gon’s heart stutters in his chest. Yes, Killua’s unbelievably tough, arguably the strongest person Gon’s ever known, but Gon still couldn’t stand to see him in pain like that. If Taupher is to be believed, this is the worst pain imaginable. The kind of pain that could bring even Killua to his knees. Gon feels sick at the thought.

Killua rolls his eyes.

“Okay, sure,” he drawls. “Color me terrified. So that’s it, then? You’re just going to hurt me unless I give up Alluka?”

Taupher shrugs.

“More or less. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? But that’s the thing about pain--language never does it justice. Try as you might to put words to it, you’ll never really manage to communicate the experience. It’s the sort of thing that can only be felt.”

Despite the threats, Killua doesn’t look frightened. No, he looks fearless. Resolute. His jaw set, his eyes firm and cold. Gon does his utmost to cling to that--Killua’s confidence, his assurance that he can take whatever’s coming. Perhaps he can. It’s Killua, after all. Killua can handle anything.

“So, enough build up,” Taupher says, clapping his hands together sharply. “Let’s get down to business, shall we? I’m on a bit of a schedule.”

“Please don’t--” Gon begins, but he’s cut off again.

“Gon, don’t,” Killua says, voice soft and oddly gentle. “It’s fine. We’re gonna get out of here. I promise. Just trust me, okay?”

Gon nods. Of course he’ll trust Killua. Trusting Killua is the one thing he does best. So as Taupher conjures the ball of aura in his hand again, Gon doesn’t protest. As he advances upon Killua, arm outstretched, Gon doesn’t beg. And as he rests his hand on Killua’s shoulder, gripping hard, Gon doesn’t cry out. He merely waits. Quietly. Trusting Killua.

Gon braces for the worst as the aura pulses through Killua’s body, bright and harsh. Braces for Killua to gasp or scream or flinch, at the very least. But he doesn’t. He merely rolls his eyes and snorts.

“Don’t worry about it, Gon,” Killua says, voice calm and unstrained. “This guy talks a big game, but it’s nowhere near as bad as he wants you to think it is. I hardly feel it.”

Taupher tightens his grip on Killua’s shoulder and the aura pulses brighter. Killua merely smirks.

“Seriously, this is nothing. I don’t know where this guy gets to thinking he’s some master interrogator. It’s actually pretty underwhelming.”

Taupher pulls his hand back from Killua’s shoulder with a low growl.

“Yeah, alright, fine. You Zoldycks live up to the name.” he says. “You’re a tough kid, I’ll give you that. But I have to say that watching you play the hero is getting under my skin. People like you don’t  _ get _ to be the hero. So how about this? I show your friend here exactly how bad it feels firsthand. Don’t worry, it won’t be long. Won’t be enough to do any real damage. I just want him to know exactly what you’re really experiencing.”

In an instant, Killua’s demeanor shifts. Gone is the casual nonchalance, the easy, conversational tone. His eyes go narrow and cold and his jaw clenches. Gon swears he sees the hairs raise along his arms.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he snarls as Taupher turns towards Gon, hand outstretched. “I swear, you touch him and it’ll be the single biggest mistake of your life. You understand? Don’t you go anywhere near him, or I’ll--”

But Gon doesn’t hear the rest, because the moment Taupher lays his hand on Gon’s shoulder, his whole world goes silent. His vision goes completely white. He can’t see, can’t hear, can’t speak, can’t do anything but endure the inexpressible agony he feels tear through every cell of his body. Gon’s no longer a person, no longer a being capable of thought or emotion. He’s merely a body. Merely the experience of pain itself. All he’s capable of thinking is that it hurts and that he wants it to stop and that he can’t bear even a moment more of it and that surely he must be dying, because a person couldn’t bear such pain as this and survive. He isn’t certain if he recalls his own name, isn’t certain he knows anything beyond the all-consuming, white-hot, inescapable agony.

Gon doesn’t know how long Taupher’s hand rests on him--things like time lose all meaning in the face of pain like this--but it feels like an eternity. When he pulls back, Gon finds that he’s weak and drenched in cold sweat and trembling all over. He’s dizzy and nauseated, trying desperately to catch his breath.

“Killua,” Gon says quietly, the moment he’s come back to his senses. Because that’s all that really matters here--Killua, his jaw clenched, his eyes soft with concern, the strangest hint of shame in his gaze.

“Well, I hope that was informative,” Taupher says brightly. “Now for all his efforts to spare you, you know exactly what he’s really experiencing.”

“Killua,” Gon says again. “Killua, please.”

Gon doesn’t know what it is he’s asking for, but he’s desperate for it all the same.

“It’s fine,” he says softly. “I told you to trust me, remember? So trust me when I say that it’s fine.”

Gon shakes his head.

“No. I can’t let you be hurt like that. Killua, I can’t bear that.”

Taupher snorts, grinning.

“See? I knew having him here would make things interesting. This is always so much more exciting with a live audience.”

Taupher turns back to Killua, his hand outstretched. The nausea begins to churn in Gon’s stomach with renewed intensity.

“No,” Gon says. “Please don’t. There’s got to be another way. Please, there has to be some other way to get what you want.”

Gon doesn’t know what he’s saying. It doesn’t make sense when he stops to think about it--what other way could Taupher have of getting to Alluka? What is this compromise Gon’s asking for? But it doesn’t matter. He just wants to bargain, just wants some way to convince him not to hurt Killua. The details can come later provided he can spare Killua the pain right now.

Taupher rests his hand back on Killua’s shoulder, the aura pulsing bright and sharp through his body again. Killua doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Gon,” Killua says softly. “Don’t worry, okay? Pain isn’t the same for me as it is for other people. I’ve been trained in stuff like this, so my threshold is really high. There are things that other people find unbearable that I hardly feel. So it doesn’t hurt the same for me as it does for you. Okay? Can you believe me? It doesn’t hurt as much.”

Gon wants to believe it. Desperately. He wants to believe that Killua isn’t suffering that unbearable, indescribable pain that Gon had experienced. Perhaps he isn’t. He’s able to talk to Gon, after all. He doesn’t so much as wince or gasp. Perhaps Killua’s pain threshold really has become inhumanly high, so high even this agony is tolerable.

“What did I say about trying to play the hero?” Taupher snaps, removing his hand from Killua’s shoulder. “It pisses me off.”

“Gon, I’m okay,” Killua says gently. “Please, don’t worry.”

Taupher’s eyes narrow in irritation and he scans Killua’s body intently. Gon hates the way he looks at Killua--like Killua’s merely a thing, like he’s something to be studied. No one should look at Killua like that. But Taupher continues to appraise Killua, cold and calculating, until eyes come to rest on his closed fists and he smiles, very slight but very sinister.

“Open your hands and show me your palms,” he says. 

Strangely, that request makes Killua’s eyes widen in something akin to fear.

“Give me one reason I should,” Killua counters.

Taupher sighs.

“You really can’t figure that out yourself? I thought you Zoldycks were supposed to be master strategists or some such nonsense. Fine, then let me spell it out for you--show me your palms or I’m hurting your friend again.”

Killua goes abruptly pale.

“I think you know me well enough by now to know that I don’t bluff. So show me.  _ Now. _ ”

Killua clenches his jaw and stares at the floor for a long moment before he rotates his bound wrists until his closed fists are facing up. And then slowly, reluctantly, he begins to open them. As he does, a thick drop of blood splatters against the floor, impossibly loud. And then another. And as he opens his hands, the source becomes clear--his fingernails have cut into his palms, so deeply that he’s begun to bleed. Gon gasps in spite of himself.

“So maybe now we can cut the bullshit?” Taupher says. “You feel it. Every bit of it. You’ve just got a good poker face. The best I’ve seen, actually. But it doesn’t change how it actually feels.”

Gon’s chest clenches so suddenly and acutely that his breath catches in his throat for just a moment. No. Please. He’d wanted to believe it. He’d wanted to believe Killua hadn’t been suffering so terribly. But of course he had, however much Gon had leapt at the chance to think otherwise. Of course he’d been in extraordinary pain. Of course he’d merely been trying to make it easier on Gon. Damn Killua and his ridiculous loyalty, trying to spare  _ Gon  _ while he was suffering like that. Damn his kindness and his nobility and his goodness. Damn his willingness to make himself bleed just to keep from causing Gon any pain.

“Killua--” Gon begins.

“No,” Killua interrupts. “It’s fine. I can take it. I can, okay? I’ve had worse.”

Gon shakes his head.

“I don’t care that you  _ can  _ take it. You still shouldn’t have to.”

Taupher sighs.

“This scene is really very touching and all, but let’s get back to business, shall we?”

“No,” Gon begs, voice cracking in desperation. “Please. There has to be something else we could do for you. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Just say the word. I’ll do anything you ask; I swear on my life. Just stop. Please.”

“Shut up,” Killua hisses.

Taupher merely laughs, light and airy, and places his hand back on Killua’s shoulder.

Despite his best efforts, tears gather, hot and stinging, in Gon’s eyes. However painful Taupher’s power had been, this is worse. A thousand times worse. Killua suffering is always the greatest agony Gon can imagine, far worse than anything that could be inflicted on his body.

“Gon,” Killua says gently. “I meant it when I said I can handle it. You deal with pain for long enough, and you can get some distance from it. To me, it’s just a sensation. It’s not like it’s dangerous. Because it’s just a feeling. So yeah, it hurts, fine. But that’s okay. Because it’s just pain.”

Taupher smirks.

“Now I think both you and I know that that isn’t exactly true.”

Killua’s eyes go wide.

“Don’t,” he says, voice low and dangerous.

“No,” Taupher continues, as if Killua hadn’t spoken. “I think both of us know that if pain is bad enough, it  _ can  _ be dangerous. I think both of us know severe enough pain can send your body into shock. That the shock cuts off blood flow to your organs. And that eventually, the organ failure can kill you. I think we owe Gon honesty, don’t we, Killua?”

Killua says nothing, and it’s all the sickening confirmation Gon needs.

“Please,” Gon begs, nausea churning ever stronger in his stomach. “Hurt me. It’ll be worse on Killua if you hurt me. I swear, it will. It’ll get him to do what you want. Please,  _ please,  _ have it be me.”

Please. It would be a mercy, actually, to hurt Gon in Killua’s place. It would be kinder than forcing Gon to watch Killua suffer. He’d be grateful for it. It would be a show of compassion. Please. He wants nothing more than to end Killua’s pain, and whatever it takes--his life, his sanity, his very soul--he’d give it with a smile. Just please,  _ please, _ not Killua.

“Gon,” Killua snarls. “You’d better shut the hell up.”

Taupher laughs, squeezing his hand tighter on Killua’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” he says to Killua, in a tone that could be mistaken for affection. “I’m not gonna listen to your friend here. He’s probably right, actually. Putting the pressure on Gon would most likely be the quickest way of getting what I want. I could bend you to my will in an instant that way, couldn’t I? But I think the both of you are fundamentally misunderstanding exactly the point of all this. I don’t  _ want  _ it to be quick. No, I want to draw this out a little while, actually. And it’s just more satisfying to hurt you directly, I suppose. Hurting you by proxy just wouldn’t feel quite the same, you know?”

Killua sighs, and although he’s pale and clammy and trembling, he’s clearly relieved.

“It is fun to watch you two trying to out-do each other in the nobility department, though,” Taupher continues. “That ‘hurt me instead’ song and dance doesn’t typically last too long once I’ve actually started in on someone. Pain’s the most primal human sensation. All that higher level stuff--love, commitment, honor, courage, integrity--crumbles in an instant if the pain is bad enough. But not you two, huh? You really mean it. You really would take the worst, most excruciating agony imaginable over seeing the other suffer. I’ve been doing this a while, and I’ll tell you, something like that is pretty rare.”

Gon’s begun to cry in earnest, tears streaming thick and hot down his face. He tries to gather his aura again, but the ropes hold firm, and Gon’s breath hitches into a sob. It’s not fair, goddamnit. Killua suffering is the greatest injustice Gon can imagine. He doesn’t deserve any more pain, not after everything he’s had to endure. Surely there has to be some sort of force in the universe that couldn’t permit such unfairness to continue. Surely something so grossly unjust has to be dealt with somehow.

“I’m okay,” Killua says. “Just relax, alright? I promise, we’re gonna get out of here and it’s gonna be okay. Alright? Gon, I swear. It’ll be okay.”

The tightness in Gon’s throat has become painful and he can’t seem to catch his breath.

“Killua, I’ll be here the whole time, okay?” Gon says through tears. “I’ll be here with you. I promise.” 

It’s not enough, not by a mile. But it’s the best he’s got.

* * *

Gon thinks he’s heard of a kind of torture involving the slow, steady drip of water. He’s heard that something as simple and innocent as a water droplet can drive a person mad if it persists long enough. That just the constant, unceasing drip--however small, however painless--is torture enough alone.

And although it’s not quite the same, the intermittent splash of the blood from Killua’s palms onto the warehouse floor is enough to push Gon to his limits. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been here, how many times Taupher has used his power on Killua, how many times Killua has lost consciousness. And although Killua doesn’t cry out, doesn’t beg or sob or plead, the drip on blood from his cut palms is a steady, constant reminder of what he’s suffering. Of how determined he is to spare Gon the pain of hearing him scream.

“Well, I think you’ve officially broken my record,” Taupher says conversationally, glancing at his watch. “No one’s lasted this long before. I gotta hand it to you--Zoldycks are a rare breed. You can take a hell of a lot of punishment without a single complaint. But I think we’re getting close, don’t you?”

With the appearance of tremendous effort, Killua lifts his head and blinks blearily up at Taupher.

“Not a fucking chance,” he says, sounding surprisingly determined given his difficulty sitting upright.

Taupher smiles.

“We’ll see about that, huh?”

“Please,” Gon says, for perhaps the hundredth time today. “Please stop. You can tell you’re not getting anywhere with him, right? He’ll die before he gives up. We both know it. So let me take his place. It’ll work. I know it will. If you hurt me instead of him, you’ll get what you want.”

“Gon,” Killua says, a note of warning in his voice.

“You know I’m right,” Gon continues. “You’ve had your fun, right? You’ve hurt him enough. Now it’s time to get what you want. And we both know the easiest way to do that.”

Gon knows Killua won’t give up Alluka. No matter the stakes, no matter what’s leveraged against him, not even if Gon’s the one tortured. But that isn’t important. All that’s important is this moment. All that’s important is simply sparing Killua some pain right now. Gon can’t think clearly about much, but he knows that much. No matter what underhanded tactics he needs to employ, he must spare Killua.

“Hmm,” Taupher says, tapping his chin with his finger in a parody of contemplation. “Sorry, but I’m gonna have to refuse that offer, kid. I can tell I’m close with him. What would be the point of throwing away all my hard work when I’ve nearly broken him? Breaking a Zoldyck would be my greatest professional accomplishment to date.”

And with that, he reaches his hand back out to Killua. Gon can’t help the sob that shakes his whole body.

“Please,” Gon begs. “Please, just stop.”

“I’m not sure what’s got you so worked up,” Taupher says. “He’s a trained assassin. He’s used to this. And more than that, he  _ deserves  _ this. What he’s experiencing now is hardly a fraction of the pain he’s inflicted on this world. And he knows it too. How come he isn’t fighting back, do you think? Because he knows he deserves every bit of this and then some.”

Gon can’t quite describe the rage that begins to expand just beneath his sternum, but it’s hot and thick and utterly furious. How dare he say those things about Killua. Killua, more than anyone Gon’s ever known, deserves gentleness. After everything he’s suffered, Killua deserves nothing but kindness and comfort and happiness. Killua has never deserved pain. And he never will. Never.

And as the rage expands throughout Gon’s chest and radiates down his limbs, hot and bright, he feels something very familiar. The unmistakable sensation of his aura gathering around him, conjured by the sheer force of his fury. It pulses and hums around him and with one tremendous surge, Gon breaks free of his bindings.

For just a moment, Gon is frozen. It’s almost unbelievable. Breaking out of Nen ropes is possible, certainly, but rare. It takes a tremendous amount of aura, so much that Gon should immediately collapse to the ground in exhaustion. But somehow, he’s still standing, his aura still bright and strong, with power to spare.

Gon wishes he had a moment to admire the look on Taupher’s face--the shock and terror and regret--but he can’t afford to slow down, not with Killua in the shape he’s in. So in an instant, he’s closed the distance between them and with one tremendous blow to the head, knocks him unconscious. Gon raises his fist again, gathering as much aura as he can. It’s not that he wants to kill, not really. He merely feels the need to hit Taupher again and again with all of his might, consequences be damned. The adrenaline flooding his body prevents him from thinking clearly--he isn’t capable of estimating the damage he’s about to cause, and he can’t bring himself to care, so he lifts his arm high and--

“Don’t,” Killua says.

At the sound of Killua’s voice, Gon hesitates.

“It’ll feel satisfying now, but you’ll regret it. I know you will. You’re not the sort of person who likes hurting people, Gon. I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it, because he probably does. But you don’t deserve to live with the regret.”

Gon pauses for a long moment and then all at once, the spell breaks. He returns to his senses. His pulse no longer pounds impossibly loud in his ears. His vision clears. And with a long, shaky exhale, Gon lowers his fist.

With his mind at last clear and alert, Gon realizes he’d neglected the most important thing in this situation. No longer overcome with rage and desperation and horror, Gon hurries to Killua’s side. Because that’s truly all that matters here--not Gon’s revenge, not finding an outlet for his rage. All that matters is Killua.

Gon quickly unbinds Killua’s wrists and ankles and then kneels in front of him, cradling Killua’s face in his hands as if he were something very delicate and very precious.

“Killua…” Gon begins, but he stops. What is there to say, really?

“I never had any doubt, you know,” Killua says.

“What do you mean?”

“I knew you’d save me. It’s the only thing that kept me from starting to panic. I never doubted for a moment that you would get me out of here.”

For a moment, Gon is perfectly still, mesmerized by the earnest, honest shine in Killua’s eyes. And then he finds himself making a strange noise that’s half-laughter half-sob, and before he can stop himself, he leans up towards Killua’s face, still cradled in his hands, and presses a kiss to his forehead. And then his cheek. And then the bridge of his nose. And then beneath his eye. Gon is powerless to resist, compelled by some unseen force to press kiss after kiss after kiss to Killua’s face. His skin is still clammy and hot, but Gon finds he doesn’t mind, not as long as Killua is safe and real and whole in front of him.

Killua, much to Gon’s surprise, accepts the affection without so much as a complaint. He allows Gon to kiss him over and over until Gon’s managed to satisfy his need and pulls back, Killua’s face still cradled in his hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Gon says. “It went on so long before I could do anything. I wish I had helped sooner.”

Killua shakes his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Gon strokes gently at the delicate skin beneath Killua’s eye with his thumb and Killua, although very weak and very slight, manages a smile.

“What should we do about him, though?” Gon asks. “I’m worried he’ll just come for you again if we let him go.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Gon’s brow furrows.

“But you’d said--”

“I’d rather the blood be on my hands than yours. Alright?”

Gon laughs, and it’s a desperate, unsteady sound.

“You’re so determined to spare me, huh?”

Killua flushes and looks at the floor.

“Always,” he murmurs. “No matter what.”

And something about the way he says it, something about the flush to his cheeks and the long, dark slope of his eyelashes as he looks down, causes Gon to have a sudden, striking epiphany. He sucks in a sharp breath, heart beginning to pound in his chest.

“Tell me no if you don’t want me to,” he says softly.

Killua looks back up at Gon, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t want what?” he asks.

“This.”

And with that, Gon closes his eyes and leans in slowly and hesitantly, giving Killua every chance to tell him to stop. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gasps, just barely audible, and surges forward desperately to meet Gon.

The angle isn’t right given that Killua’s still in the chair and Gon is crouched on the floor in front of him, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Killua is here, that his mouth is warm and soft and that he threads his hands through Gon’s hair and kisses him harder still. All that matters is that Killua’s skin is so soft beneath Gon’s fingertips, that he makes a soft, perfect noise in the back of his throat when Gon moves his hands to Killua’s waist and strokes him gently through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. All that matters, all that’s ever mattered, is that Killua allowed Gon to kiss him.

At last, Killua pulls back, breathing hard, and presses his forehead against Gon’s and laughs.

“What’s so funny?” Gon asks.

“How long have we known each other?”

Gon has to stop and think about it for a moment.

“Eight years, right?”

“Right. We’ve known each other eight years. And it took getting kidnapped and brutally, horrifically tortured to finally get us do that.”

And Gon can’t help it--everything about the situation is suddenly absurd and ridiculous and comical--and he begins to laugh as well. Harder and harder, until at last Killua surges back up and kisses the laughter right from his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so very much for reading!!!!! as always, no pressure to comment, but i treasure them all & reply to each one!!!!  
> i'm also vv active on [tumblr](https://storybookprincess.tumblr.com/) if you want to pop by & say hey!!!! take good care until i see you all again!!!!! xo


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